


Velvet-Covered Steel

by pippen2112



Series: Back on Our Bullshit - A Critical Role Modern AU [2]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, BDSM, Campaign 2 (Critical Role), Dirty Talk, Dom Caleb Widogast, Established Relationship, Exhibitionism, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rope Bondage, Sub Fjord, Switch Molly, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 04:08:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17317811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pippen2112/pseuds/pippen2112
Summary: Why do you keep finding yourself in these situations,Fjord thinks to himself as Caleb checks his work, making sure the bonds are firm but not too tight.  He has a good head on his shoulders, is smart and motivated and knows better.  But he flexes his wrists, feels the ropes hold sharp against his skin, and his cock jolts to life.Oh yeah, because you love it.





	Velvet-Covered Steel

**Author's Note:**

> Critical Role has swallowed my life; it was only a matter of time before fic happened.
> 
> I would say special thanks to Bunce for not letting this plot bunny die, but really, all y'all on the discord are at least partially at fault for this.
> 
> If I missed any tags, please let me know. I didn't tag for all the mentions in Molly's dirty talk because, well, it's Molly. He's a creative bastard and I didn't want to mislead anyone in the tags.
> 
> This fic is a direct sequel to Devil's Laughter, though I think there's enough info to read it on its own.

“Wrists.”

Fjord offers his wrists without a moment’s thought, his breath hitching as Caleb carefully wraps them in rope. _Why do you keep finding yourself in these situations,_ Fjord thinks to himself as Caleb checks his work, making sure the bonds are firm but not too tight. He has a good head on his shoulders, is smart and motivated and knows better. But he flexes his wrists, feels the ropes hold sharp against his skin, and his cock jolts to life. _Oh yeah, because you love it._

He shakes his head. Really, he should’ve pumped the brakes when Molly manhandled him into the disableds stall in the dirty rest stop bathroom forty minutes from home, kissing him while those clever fingers unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it wide so Caleb can weave a harness around his chest. Tight enough to feel the rough rope every time he shifts. Tight enough he can’t forget he’s trussed up like a turkey on Thanksgiving and Molly and Caleb are nearly ready to break their fast. He would’ve pumped the brakes if he hadn’t been twitchy and eager and ready to put his everything in Caleb and Molly’s capable hands.

“Make a fist for me,” Caleb says, dragging Fjord out of his thoughts. He does as he’s bid, testing the bonds around his wrists. Satisfied, Caleb uses the tails to tether Fjord to the support beam above the stall. “That doesn’t look as sturdy as I’d like,” Caleb comments as he finishes the knot. “You’ll have to behave.”

Fjord’s cock twitches at the words. Fuck, he’s been half-hard since Molly passed his phone to Caleb in the car and showed him the gods-damned video. He nods quietly, reaching for his head space.

“Good boy,” Caleb says, his hands trailing down Fjord’s chest. With nimble fingers, he undoes Fjord’s jeans, opening the fly but leaving his boxer-briefs in place. “How does that look, Molly?”

“Oh, that’s nice,” Molly replies from the opposite side of the stall, his camera out and trained on him. “Lovely framing. You can see how eager he is.”

Fjord shifts, trying to get comfortable in his bounds, but he remembers how Molly pinned him to the wall of the Widowgast’s guest bathroom and teased him into coming in his pants not two hours ago. His face heats up. Instinctively he tries to squirm away, to draw his shoulder down and hide himself from view.

“Oh, none of that, gorgeous,” Molly says, eyeing him over the top of his phone. “Come, come. The camera loves you. You just need to relax.”

“Oh, you wanna change places and see if you can relax?” he snaps.

Caleb huffs a short laugh as he gives Fjord’s bonds one last once-over. “As fine a figure as he would make tied in your place, Fjord, he’s already had his fun today, ja?”

Fjord lolls his head toward Caleb, shooting him a look. “By that logic, Cay, so have I.”

“Yes, Fjord, but I have not.” In those few short words, Caleb’s demeanor changes. His voice dips lower, and his expression hardens. Even though Fjord knows it’s still Caleb underneath, still his dorky, kind-hearted partner, the change intimidates him. Caleb may be the shortest of their trio, but right now, his presence fills the room, demanding notice. Fjord can't help craning forward, instinctively trying to close the few inches that separate him from Caleb's heat. But before he can reach, Caleb makes a low, displeased noise, and Fjord goes still. “And to that end, Fjord, I need you to be still for me.” He reaches out and cups Fjord’s cheek. “I would say quiet, too, but I don’t think you’ll be able to help yourself. You like to be loud, don’t you? To be noticed. To attract attention.”

Fjord nuzzles into Caleb’s palm, a whine resonating in his chest. Already, his head feels warm and hazy, and there’s a wet spot forming on his boxer-briefs. His face must be cherry red by now, but Fjord does his best not to be embarrassed. After all, he told Caleb they could try this; he encouraged Caleb to break out the ropes and offered his wrists willingly. And maybe, if he’s very lucky, he’ll be able to soak the cum stains out of his clothes—he likes these boxers, and these are his nicest pair of jeans.

Caleb strokes his thumb along Fjord’s lips, lingering at the corners where his tusks are regrowing. It’s an unspoken question, one he answers by opening his mouth and licking Caleb’s thumb. He gets two long licks in before Caleb lets out a pleased sound and presses down on Fjord’s tongue, stilling his efforts and holding his mouth open. He groans, shuddering and instinctively fighting his bonds, just to feel the sensation against his skin.

“You couldn’t be quiet even if you wanted to, could you _liebling_?” Caleb asks, low and honeyed. “Not with the rest of the world so close, I don’t think.”

Fjord’s eyes flit to the side, instinctively looking toward the door even though it’s behind him. Well, he says door, but it’s an open doorway, barely enough to keep the weather out and only tenuously considered privacy. Anyone could hear him and come investigating. Desire pulses low in his belly, molten and needy. 

Caleb jerks his chin down, forcing Fjord’s eyes back to him. “You would like someone to walk in, I think. A stranger, maybe even an acquaintance. Someone to discover you, strung up and at our mercy.” Slowly, methodically, Caleb slips his thumb free from Fjord’s mouth, and trails his fingers down Fjord’s throat to tease at his clavicle. Tender, delicate touches, that leave him yearning. “I think you would like others to see that you are ours.”

Keening, Fjord’s head drops forward, his breath coming quickly and unsteadily. “Please,” he whispers.

“Please what?” Caleb asks, sweeping his thumb back and forth across Fjord’s collarbones. “You have to use your words Fjord and tell me what you want.”

All at once, a thousand ideas swarm his mind. Burying his tongue in Molly’s ass while Caleb spanks him for his indiscretion. Or Caleb riding him, taking his pleasure from Fjord’s cock and slowing down every time Fjord feels his orgasm building. Molly and Caleb fucking his face, trading him back and forth until they’re satisfied. But each thought leaves him parched, unable to do more than hang his head and pant. His hips buck forward.

“Stay still,” Caleb says. It’s not the commanding tone he whips out when he’s had a rough week and needs to put someone on their knees; instead it’s like velvet-covered steel, initially soft but beneath lies an unyielding demand. Fjord jerks to a stop, his breathing ragged and his heart pounding already, and Caleb has barely laid a hand on him. _Maybe this won’t be as difficult as I thought._

For a moment, the only sound in the bathroom is his heavy breathing and the faint drip of a leaky pipe. He works his throat, trying to pull together a coherent thought, but every time he opens his mouth to speak, his arousal pulses and leaves him speechless. 

Caleb tsks. “That’s okay, Fjord. I think we understand each other well enough by now. I think I know what you want.” He drags his hand down the center of Fjord’s chest, every touch light as his fingers shift over the ropes and tease across the skin. Not much of him is bared, considering his shirt is still on his shoulders, but when Caleb circles his nipple, Fjord trembles against his bonds, trapped between following Caleb’s rule and angling for more direct contact. “I can give you more, _barchen_ , but you have to ask for it.”

His head drops forward, resting against Caleb’s shoulder. He moans. “I… Please. Caleb, please.”

But Caleb only continues those slow, teasing circles, not drawing any nearer. Round and round, like waves against a shore. Cries and pleas well in his throat, but Fjord bites his lip, silencing them. How can he ask for what he wants when he wants everything? Anything they’ll offer him. Fuck, he’s weak for Caleb, for Molly, but they give him a safe place to be weak. They treat him like he’s a gift. But the though of putting all that into words is too much, especially in this head space.

“Oh, fuck me, I can’t take much more of this,” Molly cuts in. 

Fjord’s head snaps to the side, startled. _Fuck, I forgot Molly was even here._ But Molly’s already tucking away his phone and sliding in behind Caleb. He hooks his chin over Caleb’s shoulder, nosing Caleb’s ear while his bright red eyes stay fixed on Fjord. “He looks so pretty in rope.”

“He looks pretty all the time,” Caleb replies, angling his head to give Molly better access.

“Next time I’m thinking we should tie him up in just a pair of jeans. No underwear, just the rough denim brushing up against his tender bits, tormenting him every time his big pretty cock ruts into it.”

Fjord chokes on his tongue, his hips lurching forward. For two blissful seconds, he brushes against Caleb, feels the hot pressure of Caleb’s cock against his own, and for those two blissful seconds, Fjord can practically feel it spreading his mouth wide and sitting heavy on his tongue and pushing just far enough into his throat to cut off his air. His mouth goes wet, but then Caleb hand turns hard against his chest, and he pushes Fjord until his back hits the stall, knocking his breath out of him.

“Do. Not. Move.” In an instant, all the softness vanishes from Caleb; only the command remains. Fjord’s knees wobbly under him, but the ropes tethered above him keep him upright.

Chuckling, Molly nibbles at Caleb’s ear, one of his hands creeping around to Caleb’s chest and trailing down, down, down. “You should do that again, love. He likes it when you use the voice.”

Unbidden, he moans, confirming the statement. 

Caleb smirks. “Ja, you’re right Mollymauk.” Caleb lifts his chin, exposing his neck and rolling his hips backward against Molly. But his hand stays braced against Fjord’s chest, pinning him in place. “He does like it. I think he likes watching. I think he’d like to watch me run my hands all over your body.” And Molly’s other hand creeps around, his fingers tweaking Caleb’s nipple while the other hand kneads his groin. “I’d work each button free slowly, peel off your shirt, and lick across all your lovely tattoos. I’d push you back onto the bed and kiss down your chest until you were begging me to take you in my mouth.”

Fjord whines, clenching his hands tight to stop himself from moving, but the need shivers through him. But he's gonna stay still, dammit. Gonna be good, because Caleb and Molly are everything he was never brave enough to dream of. And, y'know, an orgasm is an orgasm, even if he spills in his pants. Again.

"I think before we got too far, we'd tie him to the bed, ja Molly? Back to headboard, hands tied to the posts. So you can rest your head on his thigh while I fuck you."

Fjord shakes with his effort to obey. Especially when Molly moans and pulls Caleb against him.

Those long dexterous fingers clinging to Caleb's hips as Molly grinds against him. Caleb’s breath quickens faintly. His cheeks turn pink, but his hand stays planted on Fjord’s chest, anchoring him. Gods, Fjord can’t take his eyes off them. Can’t help his mouth lolling open or the subtle twitch of his hips. Fuck, there can’t be more than half a foot between them, but Fjord feels every inch of it. Were it not for Caleb holding him in place, he'd be spiraling toward a bad drop, but this, held at a distance, but held nevertheless, makes his cock jump, grazing against his tacky briefs.

Whining, Fjord digs his claws into his palms to stop himself from rutting forward. Molly answers with a groan. He sucks marks all along Caleb's throat, grinding in earnest now. Selfish, sharp thrusts seeking his pleasure against he swell of Caleb's ass. Another whimper ekes out of Fjord’s throat, jealous and wanting and denied. Because he told Caleb he’s come in his pants if Caleb wanted him to. And Caleb hasn't done more than tease and talk dirty and dare Fjord to disobey.

Quick as a flash, Caleb shoots Fjord a small grin and a wink. Before Fjord can question it, Caleb reaches back with his free hand, grabs Molly by one of his horns and turns him to face Caleb. "That's enough Mollymauk."

Molly doesn’t stop, so Caleb wrenches him back by his horn, making Molly gasp and bare the long line of his throat. Low and cold, Caleb goes on, "You've had your fun, Mollymauk. More than your fair share, some would say."

Groaning, Molly holds tighter.

"Step back now, or you’ll be wearing brown until the next summer solstice."

Molly freezes, his eyes wide. “You wouldn’t.” But he doesn’t sound half as certain as he normally does.

Caleb doesn’t flinch. “A few words, and your wardrobe will be take on an oppressively neutral shade of beige. Do not test me, Mollymauk. I did it to Beauregard, I’ll do it to you.”

If Fjord weren’t sunk so deep into the scene, he’d be on the floor laughing at Molly’s expression. But with only a mournful whimper, Molly lifts his hands and backs away. 

Looking back to Fjord quickly, Caleb says, “Stay. Be good.”

Fjord fists his hands over his head, nodding. Even so, he can’t help leaning after Caleb, straining after his touch. Caleb changes his grip on Molly’s horn and pulls Molly down the stall, pushing him into the corner. “Stay here, hands where I can see them. You can watch, but no talking. Behave, and I’ll let you come when we get home.”

Before he can stop himself, Fjord bucks into thin air, keening. Fuck, Caleb’s not even talking to him, and Fjord’s still reacting. He drops his head, steadies his breathing, and starts counting backward from a hundred by sixes. Bit by bit, he relaxes back against the stall, centered.

Smooth hands rub up his arms, and Fjord blinks to find Caleb back in front of him, his eyes fixed on him. "Everything alright, Fjord?" he asks, his usual tone back in place. Checking in. 

Fjord stretches his arms upward; there’s a brief pins and needles sensation, but it's not too bad. Not yet, not for a while, he’d wager. He nods because his throat is too thick and dry to make words. "Cay," he whispers, unsure of his voice.

"What is it?"

"Let me suck you. Please."

Caleb's gasp, a quiet exhale just out of place with his breathing. His grip turns firm against Fjord’s arm. When Fjord looks up, Caleb’s eyes are dark and his cheeks are flushed, though it only accentuates his presence. "Oh? Finally using your words, _liebling_?."

He whimpers, nodding fast. "I wanna taste you. Wanna smell you. Please, Cay."

Caleb cups his cheek and angles Fjord to meet his gaze. He smiles, so softly and so sincerely it nearly breaks Fjord’s heart. _He has no idea how beautiful he is._ Caleb strokes across his lips. "Now, how can I deny you when ask so sweetly?"

As Caleb reaches to untie his hands, Fjord flinches. Caleb pauses, his head tilted just so. “Do you want to stay tied?”

“Yes,” he gasps out, desire heavy on his tongue. “Please.”

Across the stall, there’s a bitten-off whine. Caleb briefly glances toward Molly, but Fjord keeps his eyes forward. Fixed on Caleb. Ready to do as he pleases. Without another word, Caleb reaches up onto his tiptoes and untethers him from the support beam but otherwise leaves the ropes in place. He eases Fjord’s arms down in front of him, gives Fjord a moment to rest as he checks over the ties and the harness. With a bob of his head, Caleb rubs Fjord’s biceps. “Ready?”

“Yessir.”

Caleb lets out a quiet sound of pleasure. One hand slips to the small of Fjord’s back as Caleb guides him to his knees. Fjord shuffles into position, his back to the stall wall, his legs spread slightly, his hands raised over his head. And Caleb runs a hand through his hair, ruffling it as he opens his fly and unleashes his cock. 

Fjord doesn’t wait for permission, just cranes forward and sucks the head into his mouth. The tang of pre-come spreads across his tongue, and his eyes flutter closed. Then Caleb pins him to the wall with one hand, grasps the back of his head with the other, and slowly, carefully pushes into Fjord’s mouth. 

He groans reflexively, opening his throat and licking up Caleb’s shaft, coaxing him further, harder, faster. Caleb lets out a choked grunt, gives one testing thrust. Fjord forces his eyes open, gazes up at Caleb through his lashes, and does his damnedest to swallow. “Oh, _shiesse_.” Caleb blinks down at Fjord for a second, then shifts his grip so one of his fingers presses into Fjord’s palm. “Squeeze twice.”

Fjord does.

“Good. Do that if you need me to stop, _ja_?”

Fjord groans around the cock in his mouth and nods.

And Caleb pulls back just enough to thrust again. And again. In no time, he’s built to a steady pace, deep enough Fjord has to swallow around him. The taste and smell and rhythm are perfect. Fjord closes his eyes and focuses on the simple sensations. Caleb’s hand in his hair. The wet suction of each thrust. His own needy little noises every time his shifts and his briefs drag over his cock. But it’s perfect, just like this. Caleb muttering nonsense in Zemnian overhead. Molly watching from the corner, biting his fist to keep from talking. Fjord on the edge of bursting and Caleb’s barely touched him. 

“Fjord,” Caleb calls, his thrusts turning sporadic. “Ready for me?”

He whines, sucking hard and holding his breath as Caleb buries himself to the root, cock pulsing. Caleb even releases the back of his head, wraps his hand around Fjord’s throat to feel himself twitching through his release. Fjord squeezes his eyes shut and does his best not to moan at all these subtle signs of dominance, but all too quickly Caleb pulls back, his dick still leaking when it slips free from Fjord’s mouth. 

“Cay,” he whimpers, chasing after him.

“Shh,” Caleb says. He pushes Fjord face first into the crease of his groin. 

Fjord shudders, breathing in deep and bucking forward against the empty air. When Caleb slips a boot between his legs, he cries out. He’s not supposed to move. His hands are tied, and Caleb’s hands are back in his hair and all he can breathe is Caleb. But the pressure is too much. He can’t. He can’t…

“It’s okay, _barchen,_ ” Caleb says, that velvety voice back. “Come for me.”

With a cry, Fjord ruts forward once, twice. His cock spasms, and his vision goes white.

#

For a long while, Fjord drifts, only distantly aware of voices above him. He moves as he's bidden, nods or shakes his head when he's addressed. But for the most part he lets himself be. 

When he comes back to himself, Fjord's curled in the back seat of his truck. He’s still in his button-down, but his dirty jeans have been replaced with the spare pair of sweats he keeps in the back-seat, and he’s wrapped in the snuggie Molly brings on road trips. His head’s in Caleb's lap, and Caleb’s steady hands run through his hair. 

He blinks, slowly realizing the truck is moving faster than he's used to. Molly's driving. "Speed demon," he murmurs.

Molly chuckles. "Oh good, he's alive. Looks like fucking Fjord into the afterlife goes back on the bucket list."

Fjord groans. "Please don't."

Huffing a laugh, Caleb cards his fingers through Fjord's hair. "How are you feeling, liebling?"

"Tired." He nuzzles into Caleb's thigh. 

"Rest," Caleb says softly. "You did well for us."

"So fucking well," Molly chimes, his tail twitching out from the driver's seat and coiling around Fjord's wrist.

Fjord closes his eyes and sighs. An unconscious noise rumbles in his chest. He's too worn through to pretend he's not purring. 

Caleb makes a sound of contentment. "Relax, and we'll be home soon."

And with Caleb close and warm around him and Molly humming along to the radio, Fjord smiles and lets himself be at peace.

**Author's Note:**

> Questions, comments, and concrit welcome!


End file.
